The Princess Dowager of Wales was at this time dangerously ill with a throat complaint, and it was therefore proposed to George III. that this new misfortune should be concealed from her. But the king answered, incautiously, "My mother _will_ know everything, and, therefore, it is better that I should break it to her by degrees." He therefore went to her directly, suddenly forbidding his levee just half an hour before it was going to begin, and thus was the first to publish the disgrace of his sister. Walpole, who is our authority for the above,[56] adds, in a strain of reflection unusual with him:-- "Such an accumulated succession of mortifications has rarely fallen on a royal family in so short a space. They seemed to have inherited the unpropitious star of the Stuarts, from whom they are descended, as well as their crown. The marriage of the Duke of Cumberland with Colonel Luttrell's sister, the dangerous illness of the Princess of Wales and the Duke of Gloucester, and the dishonour of the Queen of Denmark: all happening within three months." We are told--though let us hope that it was only the floating gossip of the day--that the princess dowager, on receiving the fatal news from the Continent, prayed most fervently for her speedy dissolution; declaring that the world could not be more weary of her than she was of the world, and desiring her attendants never to mention the name of a "certain princess" in her presence. For the next few days the newspapers necessarily contained only what information could be picked up at the coffee-houses. Thus we find that it was generally believed that the worst part of the news from Denmark was not yet published, and, therefore, all was suspense, doubt, and anxiety, among the constant visitors at St. James's. The politicians at the new Lloyd's Coffee-house very busily engaged in speculative bets upon a war with Denmark; but considerate people imagined that Lord North was much too wise to engage offensively against any power merely on account of a family _faux-pas_, especially when the conduct of the person to be supported was indefensible. The natural inclination to think ill of one's neighbour was only heightened at this time through the profound secrecy maintained by the government. Still, it is gratifying to find some writers at this early period calling for the assistance of a fleet to vindicate, rather than the voice of the British nation to condemn, the Queen of Denmark; and further on in the same article Caroline Matilda is spoken of as the "Royal Innocent." Early in February, a long letter appeared in the _General Evening Post_, calling attention to the whole affair in very powerful language. The writer, after urging the nation not to decide on _ex parte_ statements, proceeds to defend Caroline Matilda in the following warm terms:--